


To Conquer Indecision

by honeymink



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, HP: EWE
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-26
Updated: 2015-08-26
Packaged: 2018-04-17 08:12:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4659204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeymink/pseuds/honeymink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ginny stood there courageous, in joyful anticipation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Conquer Indecision

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theimpossiblegeekygrrl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theimpossiblegeekygrrl/gifts).



For a moment her small hand hesitantly lingered over the door handle. Maybe she could simply pet the black cat that was slinking around her leg and leave again. The rundown apothecary he had bought, somewhere between _The Spiny Serpent_ and _Markus Scarrs Indelible Tattoos_ , was dimly lit. Outside, it was a grey, cold November afternoon. The rain ran down the plate-glass door and the light blue robes Fleur had lent her would soon be soaked and dripping.

Ginny’s heart beat with an unnamed fear as she opened the door so violently that a little cluster of silver bells tinkled wildly, taking quite some time to calm down. Behind the shop’s counter Severus Snape rose from his leather armchair.

“Miss Weasley,” he said, his voice silky and menacing. “Now what would a proper young witch such as yourself do in Knockturn Alley?”

“I need a potion, sir,” she replied with soft gravity.

“Ah, so you do.” His smile was mocking her now. “You understand it comes at a price?”

Ginny swallowed hard and looked at him. He still wore the same black attire – square-toe boots, trousers, a cravat over a high collared coat with numerous shiny buttons. No more billowing teaching robes though.

“I do, sir!”

He gave her a curt nod. “Very well then.”

“Shall I undress for you?” Glittering eyes begging for approval.

Again he nodded his assent and studied her as she took her robes off, folded them and put them on the counter. Then she stood there in the middle of his shop wearing nothing more than light grey knee highs and her Oxfords. Certainly very pale, she was still strong and supple. There was colour in her lips and her tresses seemed to glow red-gold with the brightness of her nature.

“Pinch your nipples.”

Shivering she raised her hands and pinched until the flesh of her fingers went white.

“Would you... ward the door?” she whispered, gnawing at her bottom lip.

“No.” He looked at her in amusement. “Are you wet?”

“Yes,” she said, very softly as she blushed prettily and dropped her gaze.

“Good.”

Putting the potions book he had read earlier aside, he leaned against the armchair.

“Now come here,” he said, his tone commanding as usual.

As she finally made her way over and stood before him, he smacked her arse once. Hard. She squirmed a bit but didn’t dare to pull away. His long fingers caressed the red mark before he spanked her again.

“Would you like me to give your pretty arse a hiding you’ll remember? I may fuck you after until the pain melts away.”

Breathing heavily, she nodded.

“Get on the counter then. Kneel on it and hold onto the edge,” he said brusquely.

Without hesitation she complied and spread her knees farther apart, jutted her bottom out, a shiver passing over her toned limbs. Strong hands cupped her behind, kneading the stimulated flesh.

Then he spanked her left cheek. And her right. And again. And again.

She mewled in delight. “Oh Merlin–“

“You want to be careful, people might think you enjoy this depravity, Miss Weasley!”

Her jaw clenched. She thrust her bottom out further, giving it a subtle wiggle. As he administered another swat, she knew he was gritting his teeth at her brazen display.

Lusty and anguished, she sighed. Suddenly his hand delved lower, into her swollen folds.

“Merciful Morgana,” he sneered. “You’re dripping. Did you take pleasure in your spanking?”

She gripped the edge of the counter, all coherent thoughts dissolving in a delicious haze as he cupped her, palming her soaking cleft.

“Oh yes, sir,” she moaned shamelessly and rubbed herself against his hand. “You’re catching on.”

He chuckled darkly and sat back in his armchair. “Saucy tongued witch.”

A bit uncertain, Ginny slid off the counter and walked over to him. Her arse felt swollen and red but she remembered what he had promised her. Trembling, she carefully sat on his lap, kissed his cheek and rested her head on his shoulder. He brushed his fingers through her hair lightly. As his hand slowly ran down her arm, caressed her breast and her stomach, she thought how naughty it was that she sat there on his lap naked while he was fully clothed.

“Spread your legs,” he said, hot breath against her cheek.

His hand between her legs, her skin was nearly burning with fever. He ran two fingers along her slit and she knew he felt her wetness, her slippery want. When his fingers plunged into her, she sighed, her muscles clenching tightly, shooting fire along her nerves. Finally he moved in deep, masterful strokes that almost pushed the breath from her lungs.

“Fuck yourself on my fingers,” he ordered.

His wicked words furthered her arousal and she gladly obeyed, feeling so needy as her hips bucked against him and she rode his fingers in a rough, driving rhythm. Then his thumb brushed softly over her nub, pressed ever harder and smaller circles around it.

“Sir, I… can I… –“ she moaned, stopping to swallow and gather her thoughts halfway through the sentence.

“Yes,” he conceded. “You can come.”

One more forceful thrust sent her over. His fingers slid out of her and his hand met her swollen mound in a harsh slap. Ginny whimpered with pleasure, stars blurring before her eyes. Slowly she came down from her dizzying high. Curled up in his embrace, she lazily stroked his cock through his trousers.

“My, my… what do I do with you?” he mused as she felt him getting even harder.

Ginny sighed, “Oh, let me slide down and…”

In the next instant, she sank to her knees. It wasn’t a minute too soon. The ringing of silver bells and a gust of cold wind announced another customer.  
  


***

  
There were two in fact.

“Do your wondering inside or outside but shut the door,” Severus drawled. “There’s a draft.”

He got up and bent slightly over the counter, very tense, very alert but with enough presence of mind to quickly grab the folded light blue robes and hand them down to Ginny.

“Goodness gracious. Lucius! Miss Granger! To what do I owe the honour? Shopping for Christmas presents maybe?”

His eyes sparkled with vicious delight. After all, this had to be a most uncomfortable encounter what with Miss Granger having run off with the younger Greengrass a couple of months ago. _Witch Weekly_ had covered in detail how very not amused the Malfoys were with their son’s broken marriage contract.

“Indeed,” the bushy haired witch exclaimed a bit too brightly. Emboldened by his prompt, she continued, “I’m looking for a sensitising oil. Perhaps something with aniseed, stinging nettle and peppermint?”

Meanwhile Lucius Malfoy turned more and more scarlet with the mention of each ingredient. What this mixture would be used for was all too evident.

“Very well, Miss Granger. Custom order, pick up in a week?” Severus said smoothly then turned to his old friend. “And for you Lucius? A soothing serum perhaps? Your face is almost as red as a Weasley’s hair.”

“Well, really?” gasped Lucius with a contemptuous glance at Hermione. “Now I know the kind of clientele you serve here, Severus… I’ll do better at _Slug and Jiggers_.”

And with that, he strode out of the shop, taking care to bang the door shut as hard as he could on the way out. Apologising profusely, Miss Granger left shortly after.

“Right then,” Severus snorted and sat back down in his armchair, Ginny at his feet.

She had put on her borrowed robes again, and seemed suddenly conscious of her damp, wrinkled skirt and the dropping bun into which she had tied her flaming hair. Yet to him she was most beautiful.

“I have to leave soon. Harpies training, you know?” she said regretfully. “About the potion–“

He cut her off, “I won’t help you poison Potter, Ginny.”

“It’s not poison!” she stormed in protest. “Just something to disenchant him. Preferably before he talks to my father.”

“Like Flesh-Eating Slug Repellent?“ he asked, amused at her rage. “Since Potter lusting after you came about by no artificial means, there is only one way to end it and you know it too.”

Her anger gone as quickly as it came, she looked quite distressed by this but finally said with a shy audacity, “Better not draw out the agony then. I’ll come back when it’s over?”

He gave her one of his rare sincere smiles and nodded.

Their eyes met and lingered for a moment before she asserted fiercely, “Tomorrow then!”

Ginny stood there courageous, in joyful anticipation. All would be well.

 

**~Fin~**


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